Walls
by hpjkrowling4ever
Summary: Twoshot. Draco Malfoy is a double-edged sword. He's a pariah but he's also a leader, a vulnerable young boy who doesn't really know any better. This is my take on the two sides of Draco Malfoy, in response to prompts from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry DADA classroom. COMPLETE
1. Defense

_A/N:_ _These two one-shots are based around the character of Draco Malfoy and show two sides of him: the vulnerable side and the confident side. Just a bit of character exploration for him, based on what I believe Draco Malfoy has faced._

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** Walls

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Defense

If Draco Malfoy were to face a Boggart, it would manifest itself as an empty chair in unnatural stillness. Silence. But he would be able to tell you that silence had a sound. The sound of silence was suffocating, oppressive; it bore a weight heavier than anything Draco had ever carried. It meant danger. It made him want to hide himself in a corner and curl up as small as possible because maybe, maybe this time he would be able to escape, maybe this time he wouldn't be seen. If he closed his eyes hard enough, and made enough wishes, this time he would be safe.

Despite his relaxed posture as he lounged in a chair in his en-suite drawing room, Draco's ears were perked and every sound made him flinch. It was the steady tip-tap of his father's cane and the heavy, even footsteps, though, that made him flinch the hardest, before drawing himself up into a stiff, perfect posture in his chair. As if that would save him this time.

"Draco." Lucius Malfoy's voice betrayed nothing. His face was as expressive as stone. His grey eyes bore deep into Draco and Draco tried hard to keep his father's stare, but it was too hard and he dropped his head, ashamed of himself.

"Father." He replied, his eyes trained on the cane held loosely in his father's hand. He had seen the snake strike before and he would not let it strike again.

"Do you have no respect, child? Stand when your elders enter the room." Mr. Malfoy ordered, and Draco rose to his feet reluctantly, and his eyes moved up to look at the wall behind his father.

"Yes, sir." Draco replied, remaining as still as possible.

"I have seen your end-of-term results, Draco." Mr. Malfoy said, and moved so that he stood right beside his son. Draco could feel the cold breath of his father and he shivered despite himself.

"Yes, sir." He answered, refusing to rise to his father's baiting. His father glided his can against the side of Draco's foot, and Draco shivered once again, as if awaiting a blow.

"They were below par, Draco." Mr. Malfoy hissed, his voice soft and silky and so very, very dangerous. Draco tensed, waiting for the blow to come. "Malfoys are never below par. Give me one good reason why I should not give you the education you have been missing here and now."

"It's not my fault that Granger's so bloody eager!" Draco shouted, and jumped aside as his father's cane whistled through the air, just missing him. His father sneered at him and grabbed him by his collar. Draco's heartbeat rose several notches, but he refused to show any fear.

"She is a _Mudblood_ , Draco!" Mr. Malfoy snarled, throwing Draco onto the sofa. Draco pushed himself up again and crossed his arms angrily, throwing a half-defiant, half-scared look at his father.

"She has something to prove – and the teachers are biased against me, Father." Draco answered rapidly when he saw his father's fist tighten at his son's sign of anger. Draco dropped his arms to his side but continued to stare at his father.

"Are they, Draco, or is that some convenient excuse you have concocted?" Mr. Malfoy stalked towards Draco, predator chasing prey, and Draco took a step backwards, only to fall back into the sofa. Mr. Malfoy gave a grin completely devoid of humour.

"I do not concoct convenient excuses, Father." Draco answered, his teeth clenched. His father raised an elegant eyebrow in a move Draco had so often copied and this time his cane did not miss when it hit the side of his leg. Draco winced, but soon schooled his expression into a blank, expressionless one. His pride would not let him show pain. Malfoys were beyond pain. Draco saw a tiny bit of approval enter his father's eyes and he felt adrenaline race through him.

"Why, then, Draco, can a Mudblood with no previous magical training do better than you?" Mr. Malfoy asked, twirling his cane in his hand. His eyebrow joined his hairline again and Draco ducked his head in shame once more. "Is it because she is more… _dedicated_ to her studies? Is it because she… _cares_ more, Draco?"

"Are you saying that I don't?" Draco asked defensively, pushing himself further back into the sofa. He felt his back hit the pillow and knew he was trapped.

"Yes, Draco, that is _exactly_ what I am saying." Mr. Malfoy smirked at his son and Draco swallowed heavily. "If I do not see an improvement in your results, Draco, you will know the pain of my anger. The _full_ pain."

"I will do my best, Father." Draco said around the painful lump in his throat. Mr. Malfoy nodded curtly.

"See that you do."

With that, his father was gone and Draco was left alone in the drawing room, with the silence wrapping around him once more and all he wanted to do with curl up in that corner, close his eyes because maybe this time he would be safe. But when the repressive silence drew her tendrils tighter and tighter around him, choking and squeezing him, Draco knew that he would never be safe again.

Because you can always hear the footsteps coming when it's silent.

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 _A/N:_ _The prompts I used were:_ _ **pride**_ _,_ _ **someone crossing their arms**_ _,_ _ **wall**_ _, but I don't know if just mentioning_ _ **Hermione Granger**_ _counts._


	2. Offense

_A/N:_ _I would like to thank_ _ **HermioneJ**_ _for her review. It's probably one of the most heartfelt reviews I have ever seen and it made me so happy. I wish that I could reply more personally, but I'll hope that you read this chapter and enjoy it just as much as I loved reading your review. Thank you!_

 _Disclaimer:_ _None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me._

* * *

 **Title:** Walls

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

Offense

The Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station with a screech, and once they had disappeared from the view of the platform, Draco Malfoy stood up gracefully. He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and looked at Pansy Parkinson, who was staring up at him in open adoration. He sneered inwardly, but did not risk angering her. His father would hear about it if he did.

"Pansy, how do I look?" he asked, turning sideways. Pansy leant her head on her hands and stared dreamily up at him.

" _Lovely_ , darling," she breathed, and Draco turned away, disgusted. She wouldn't tell him if he had a speck of dust on him. He looked at Zabini, hidden away in a corner of their compartment, and raised his eyebrow at the Italian boy. Zabini raised an eyebrow back.

"Yes, Malfoy?" he asked sharply, his voice just bordering on disrespect. Draco raised his other eyebrow and Zabini bowed his head, looking cowed. Draco had to take a deep breath, so powerful was the feeling of shame that coursed through him. He choked it down. Malfoys didn't feel shame.

"Should I change my cloak?" Draco asked, phrasing the question differently so that Pansy, being the fool that she was, wouldn't recognise it as being the same one. He heard her sigh dreamily again behind him and he wanted to snarl his anger at her. No – he couldn't – his father would kill him if he jeopardised the marriage contract.

"You look fine, Malfoy." Zabini answered, his head still bowed. Draco nodded. Zabini disliked him enough that he wouldn't lie.

"Crabbe, Goyle, with me." He ordered, and the two dolts rose cumbersomely from their seats to stand behind him. Draco straightened his cloak once more, threw the door to his compartment open and stalked out, not bothering to keep the door open for Crabbe and Goyle. He heard a grunt that meant that one of them hadn't kept the door open in time, and he sneered at their ineptitude.

Draco spotted a third year further down the corridor and headed there. The third year looked up when he heard Draco approaching, and his eyes widened in fear when he recognised Draco. Draco swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat and shoved the memories that wrenched themselves to the front of his mind at the sight of the wide, fearful grey eyes, so reminiscent of his own when confronted with his father's wrath.

"You!" he snarled, taking out his shame at his fear on the young boy, who gulped audibly and held his wand in a shaking hand. Draco felt more than saw Crabbe and Goyle step up to his shoulders and cross their arms menacingly. "Tell me where Potter is." He ordered, and the third year pointed a shaking finger down the train.

Draco swept past him regally, but bowed his head once he could no longer see him, ashamed of his cowardice, his inability to do anything other than imitate and obey his father. It was Granger's fault, Potter's fault, _their_ _fault_ that his father did not approve of him, that his father did not give him the _love_ he so desperately wanted.

Once he reached Potter's compartment, he threw open the door and leant against the doorjamb, surveying the three hostile faces in front of him. How could he best take advantage of this situation?

"Sod off, Malfoy, we don't need you here." Weasley snarled, rising to his feet. Draco raised an eyebrow and stared at Weasley until he dropped his eyes.

"Is that so, _Weasel_?" he asked, feeling triumphant when Weasley scowled and Granger frowned. Oh, how he wanted to make her frown. "I'd say you're more the waste of space."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Potter said wearily, his wand hand lying limply beside him. Now, they couldn't have _that_ , Potter couldn't be unaffected.

"Oh? If the Wizarding World is so unaffected by the presence of mudbloods and blood traitors, then you can surely allow me to speak freely, hmm?" Draco asked, delighted when Granger blushed bright red. He did let his hand slide closer to his wand when she rose.

"You're a bigoted, close-minded fool and you'll see what'll come to you in the end, Malfoy!" she shouted, her hands clenched tightly beside her. Draco crowed at the rise – finally, finally he was getting his revenge.

" _Me_? I'm _untouchable_ , Granger. My father could have you _destroyed_ in an instant." Draco said, smirking. She had no idea how true his words were. If Lucius Malfoy could happily injure his son, then he would happily destroy Granger. Merlin, a world without Granger; maybe then his father would love him.

"Your father is an even bigger fool than you are." Potter said mildly. Draco noticed that he had his wand in his hand and was tapping it against his thigh. A few sparks shot out the end and Potter grinned. Draco was momentarily surprised by the way the grin made his eyes light up, but quickly recovered and sneered at Potter.

"Sparks? Is _this_ the famed Boy-Who-Lived? You have to pull your wand out at a few words…is itty bitty little Potty _scared_ of the big, bad Draco Malfoy?" Draco jeered, his lips pulling back into a mirthless smile.

"Leave us alone, Malfoy!" Granger breathed out furiously. It looked like she was close to tears. "You have _no idea_ what you're doing."

"On the contrary, Granger, I know what I'm doing and I know where I stand. You don't stand a chance in a world like this with people like me." Draco replied smoothly, and Crabbe and Goyle grunted in agreement behind him.

"Just – just get out, Malfoy!" Weasley yelled, red in the face.

"You're all so _easy_." Draco hissed, pulling out his wand. He relished the way Weasley and Granger took a step back and reached into their pockets. "You don't stand a chance when the Dark Lord rises."

With Granger's stricken look imprinted in his mind, Draco whirled around, filled with glee. It was a job well done.

He ignored the voice in his head saying, _you are your father's son_. It was easier, safer to think that they had done something to _him_ , rather than he had done something to _them_. Otherwise he would be a bully.

Otherwise he would be his father.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Prompts used:_ _ **someone crossing their arms**_ _,_ _ **Hermione Granger**_ _(not as a main character though)._


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